


Alone but Not Alone

by twitch



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, New Year's Eve, Strangers, background & cameo characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9068185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitch/pseuds/twitch
Summary: Rockefeller Center was never not busy. In December it was pandemonium. In amongst the mass of humanity, between friends, families and lovers taking in the sights and sounds of the seasons, two strangers meet over a photograph.





	1. Pre-Christmas Rush

**Author's Note:**

> Two weeks ago I arrived in New York City for an overdue vacation. It wasn’t until the Christmas weekend that I got struck by inspiration.

Rockefeller Center was never not busy.

In December it was pandemonium. If travelling the small center proper wasn’t hard enough, cramped with gawkers and walkers, skaters on the ice, families and friends posing for photos, it was a test of patience for the mass of humanity known as New York City to get in, through and out. By the feel of it no one was leaving. It only felt more and more crowded by the moment. It felt like all the boroughs were crammed into the relatively small vicinity.

Underfoot in the mall itself it couldn’t have been much better. He could see as much from the lone elevator and doors he could see, more people rushing inside to escape the cold.

A new throng of people came pushing in from Saks over on the opposite side of 5th, no longer satisfied by admiring the window displays.

More people were coming in from the Christmas market behind the library.

As Christmas neared the nights would only get busier and busier.

He should’ve fled, for the sake of his sanity, but he stayed. He didn’t have anyone to keep company or was expecting anyone to join him. Phasma was working her shift at the bar and wouldn’t be out until closing. Mitaka was studying for a final that he had tomorrow morning. Thanisson would be at the bar attempting to flirt with Phasma only to be ignored as per usual.

Thanisson wouldn’t waste his valuable flirting time to join him.

Hux stayed because he fumbled into being useful. 

At first he wanted to laugh at the couple. Anyone else might’ve not seen it right away but Hux watched the two men jostle the corgi between them while trying to steady their phone to take a photo. They were trying to get the Christmas tree in the background into the frame but when one hand moved away the poorly balanced dog would slip with a whine. The two men would laugh, hands sliding together as they readjusted their hold. 

Unable to hold back a smirk Hux crossed over to them, finding gaps in the crowd to wiggle his way through. In another attempt to catch their dog the phone slipped out of their hands but Hux caught it before it landed on the icy ground and got kicked the length of the sidewalk into the road.

“At least I don’t have to buy you a new phone for Christmas now,” the darker of the two men teased the other.

“Ah, who needs a present when I already have you.” There might’ve been a pinch but a thick jacket kept the assault at bay. He reached out for his phone, Hux still holding it. “Thanks!”

“Would you like me to take your photo for you? Since you have your hands full,” Hux offered, gesturing to the corgi huffing between them. 

The smaller man blinked, grinning again. “Why didn’t I think of that first? Yes!”

“Good, we’ll be able to put her down soon.” Both men steadied their arms and hands to support their pet properly. “You really need to stop giving her all our dinner scraps.”

Hux took several steps back, finding the right position to take a photo of the men and their dog with the tree in the background. “Alright. Ready!” The flash went off but the men, and corgi, kept grinning.

“Thank you!” The man who had the phone bounded up to him, bounded an extra step to make the height difference to lay a peck on his cheek. “Now we can get those sauces from the market!”

The other man squeezed his shoulder, hand remarkably warm despite not wearing gloves, before they made the slow walk through the crowd towards the library. 

The music from the light show rang through the air, the repetition the only indication of how much time passed aside from the other people who came up to him, their phones and cameras in hand.

He took a photo of a husband and wife, or so he assumed, carrying twins in their arms.

Next was the hirsute man who loomed even taller than him, needing assistance to get a photo with his significantly shorter bespectacled girlfriend.

He startled when one person from a group of people clad in black hooded trench coats silently pressed a camera into his hand. 

It was men and women, teenagers, grandparents and grandchildren, families, all coming up to him. The same sets of demographics walked around him, singing and chatting, enjoying the cheer of the season, taking in the sights and sounds, cold air dispersed by body mass and excited exhales. It was living in a snow-globe, a brightly coloured monument of the season, the snow long-fallen but ready to stir with the right jostle. There was the music, the picture-perfect tree and buildings and people.

Except as he handed yet another camera back to a happy family, he was passing off the joy to everyone else. He held it in his hands, the photos, the snow globe, passing it off to everyone who came and went with thanks. It was their scene, not his.

He was on the outside and looking in.

He was lonely but not alone. There were too many people to be alone. 

“You’re finally getting a break?”

The line of requests he had received in the last… stretch of time – he truly had lost all sense of time, not sure how long he’d been standing in the same spot, he only knew if someone was talking to him by some variation of requesting a photo by the voluntary photographer. He received someone else’s phone and was taking a photo of the young woman and the little girl in her arms before someone brushed up against him. Standing where he was he’d been bumped into many times but this time it was a purposeful touch, a hand settling onto his arm.

“I hope you’re getting paid for photographer duties.”

“It’s free of charge.” Hux knew he wasn’t a friend. Mitaka and Phasma were busy. It wasn’t even a co-worker or someone recognisable from the shared lunchroom of all businesses who operated within the same complex. Not a neighbour or someone who took the same tedious subway route that he travelled. He was just a stranger, dark haired and dark eyed but smiling expectantly at him. Hux found a smirk, threatening to be friendly despite his normal personality, pursing at his lips. The wonders of the season. “Do you need a photo?”

“Not really. Everyone else is desperate to get proof of the moment but I’m here to…” He shrugged his shoulders, glancing around for words that weren’t there. “Experience it. A photo can’t capture the spirit, the sounds, the cold, the feeling of being here.”

Hux shook his head, bangs falling across his forehead. “I am feeling it. But I don’t mind taking that proof for everyone else.” 

He cut himself short, visibly. The other man cocked his head, waiting for him to continue. 

There was no way Hux was going to say ‘It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do’ out loud, even if the thought had been hot on the heels of his spoken statement.

Fumbling for something to say Hux’s cheek twitched, not ready to smile but looking for something to do before attempting something not foolish. “I do like the feeling though.”

Still sounded foolish, but apparently the stranger approved, nodding and smiling. “It’s better than being stuck indoors.”

“I should’ve brought a hat with me,” Hux admitted, knowing, feeling that his ears had turned red long ago.

“Maybe.” He ignored the sweeping look that took in his hair, knowing that the colour garnered second looks. “Maybe you should get a photo of yourself.”

“Oh, no, no way,” Hux protested, laughing awkwardly. “I take photos, good photos, and that’s it.”

“Take a step to the other side of the lens!” The man’s hand came back up to take him by the arm, bringing him to the side where all the photo-happy people had been posing for him. “It’s not that scary.”

“So says Mr. “I want the spirit, not the proof?”” Hux asked, arching an eyebrow up to him. “I’m enjoying being here. I don’t need a picture to remind me of that.”

He shook his head, hair threatening to spring up into a curl around his collar. “Sometimes exceptions must be made.” 

Hux scoffed. “That’s the last time I believe in a philosopher.”

“That’s one of the kinder words anyone has used to describe me.”

His next scoff sounded closer to a laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”

His laugh had brought him into something resembling a smile and the hand that squeezed his arm, tugged slightly startled him further. Hux was fairly sure it wasn’t an attractive smile but it was too late to think of it when he felt a cold cheek against his and the front screen of a phone held in front of him.

A swipe of a thumb later and he recognised the flash of the screen for the photo taken.

“You could’ve warned me,” Hux grumbled, face heating rapidly despite the air.

“The spirit demanded me not to,” he countered, giving his arm one last squeeze before releasing him. “It’s more fun that way.”

Hux dragged his teeth against his bottom lip, ready to argue but somehow not. The only words of protests he managed was a feeble, “For everyone else!”

“Oh, I enjoyed myself!” he reassured him, grinning at him as he pulled away, waving hand and phone happily.

Hux blinked. That wasn’t even his phone?

The weight in his jacket pocket said as much, a shock that overrode any recollection of him disappearing down the sidewalk.

The crowd surged around him.

He wasn’t alone.

He was lonely.

He was lonely but not alone but now, now he was alone, trying to find the stranger with black hair.


	2. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From Christmas to New Year's Eve, the rush doesn't abate, and yet the feeling remains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week late to properly celebrate the new year but let's ignore that little fact.

In the secrecy of his mind he could tell the truth. He wasn’t precisely sure what to admit, his thoughts disjointed, and not just for the end of the fiscal year and trying to figure out how to get out of most of the obligations that his family dictated. Phasma, knowing him better than anyone else, sometimes himself, knew that something was off.

Asked about his fixation about going out to Rockefeller Center most nights. Only when she called him out on it did he relent and agree to the plans that took them elsewhere.

Then there were the two painful nights spent with his parents.

Despite their disassociated front they tried to make for a traditional Christmas year after year. It was always a relief to return to the city and get back into something that claimed to be a routine. Not that with the holidays a routine wouldn’t happen until the new year.

Routine or not, he had hoped that for all his returns he would catch a glimpse of a taller figure, dark hair and dark eyes finding his in a crowd. He knew better than to get his hopes up, that one chance encounter was just that. A fluke in the wonder and delight of the holiday season.

As his chances were he never saw him. He didn’t dare reassure himself, that they continuously missed each other by a matter of minutes. 

Yet for New Years Eve he wanted to go back to Rockefeller Center. Mitaka chided him, telling him that they had to go to Times Square. He told him to go with his other friends, that there wasn’t a chance that he would lose himself to the sea of thousands, millions, crammed in like school kids: stay behind the fences, scream on cue, don’t lose your partner.

It was a blessing that Thanisson decided to go with Mitaka to Times Square. He wasn’t really in the mood to try and be sociable with him at the bar while Phasma worked. While cheer was rampant, flowing and cresting higher with increased alcohol consumption, and Phasma shared in the joy with coworkers and customers, he decided it was just safer for him to stay with the more subdued crowd and pretend he was good company for her.

A gesture that consisted of an empty glass had him nodding back to Unamo. His drink was nearly finished, a neat sip emptying it when she brought him a new one. “Why aren’t you out with Mitaka?”

“He’s out at Times Square.” Her faint cringe mirrored his mood to which he chuckled. “Plus Thanisson is with him.”

Eyebrows lifted in understanding. “That would explain why he’s not here pestering everyone.”

Hux took a sip of his drink, considering before cocking his head. “You should give Mitaka a thank you gift. A belated Christmas gift.”

“That boy has earned his wings a hundred times over,” she commented before taking the few steps sideways to serve a customer.

Despite the smaller nature of the bar he did have a good vantage point to casually look around. Sat at the bar, not immediately by the door to avoid the inevitable chill, he could watch everyone who came and went while still glancing out to the booths and tables. Past the carpeted section and the polished floor a small stage took up the back-most corner of the restaurant proper. From what he remembered a three-man show was supposed to start at ten and they were doing their sound-check individually. 

He was watching the guitarist longer than he intended, trying to figure out why he looked familiar, when Phasma spoke up behind him. “Are you going up when they start playing? They have a large following, the floor will fill up quickly.”

Shrugging one shoulder he turned back to face her. “Maybe.”

“Don’t feel obligated to keep the bar company,” Phasma remarked, patting the ebony surface as if comforting an old friend.

“How about you?” 

“The chances of me being lonely here, anywhere, are impossible.” With a grin she swatted his elbow off the bar. “Wander. Mingle.”

“You can’t order me around.” He hesitated, took a sip quickly in hopes to muffle his – “this time.”

Laughing above the din her hand came up between his shoulders. It wasn’t a shove but he took the hint, taking his paper coaster with him as he started to wind his way around the tables.

Remarkably by the time his feet left the dining area all three musicians were on stage and ripping into their set with more volume than their numbers suggested. Even with the bass kicking up louder than necessary he was surprised to hear that the opening song hinted to a blues-jazz swing sound. 

He stepped back into the carpeted area when their fans took to the dance area, some tapping their feet away tamely, others swinging in time with their partners and the melody. It wasn’t what he listened to but he could appreciate the fact that they meshed together, not just on a musicianship level but they were having just as much fun as the crowd.

It wasn’t too busy to avoid bumping into anyone when he slipped out of the immediate area. He excused it as a need to use the restrooms before grabbing a drink. 

Taking the glass he took a long sip, wondering if it truly was all worth it. The bar or Times Square. Even his trips out to Rockefeller Square. 

New York City was a big city. He was only a cog in the wheels of the whole operation. At work he was valued with some amount of importance but at the end of the day, civilities given before everyone else left – well, essentially, that said it all.

There were too many people to be alone.

Semantics had their time and place.

Taking a deeper sip, ignoring the question burning in his head, he forced his way back into the crowd.

Suddenly listless, he took to a table out of the way of the now standing masses. It was far back to protect his eardrums from the concerted effort of bass and drums. Not truly far enough but he forced himself to endure. 

It wasn’t the drink. He knew he could last longer than this, he had, on multiple occasions. Still…

It wouldn’t be hard to slip out unnoticed. The bar was busier now that the band had started, people continuing to come in. Yet with their attention fully on the stage he didn’t feel compelled to leave. It was easier to fade in with anonymity rather than be the jerk that elbowed everyone on his way out. Not that he was normally against being a jerk.

He’d be a jerk leaving without telling Phasma.

And going to bed before midnight was not what he wanted to do. Of all the days, it was forbidden on New Year’s Eve to sleep before the new year.

He’d wait until after midnight, say his wishes to Phasma and Unamo on his way out.

Resist the urge to go to Rockefeller Center.

He really had his issues today. On his fourth drink it was deplorable. Tempering his pace to make his drink last until midnight he unwrapped his fingers, grabbing it a few seconds later when his table wobbled.

He gaped when the man who sat across from him breathed heavily through his mouth, smiling for the recognition they shared. “I didn’t think… I was told you were here.”

Slowing down was forgotten in his shock. Taking a long drink as though that was the reason he had his mouth still open he shook his head. “Um, someone was looking for me?” Hux asked.

“Someone recognised you,” he corrected, setting his own glass down on the table. Red knuckled from the cold he clinked his glass against his before taking a sip and wrapping his hands together to rub warmth back into them. 

Bemused he took another sip, the silent cheers concluded before he let go of his drink. “How would that happen?”

“Tall redheads stand out in a crowd,” he explained, corner of his mouth lifting a fraction, even if his eyes flashed sheepishly a second later. “And there is the matter of a photo on my phone…”

“That had been unexpected, considering that photo was supposed to be for me,” Hux commented, smirking when the stranger’s cheeks brightened more. “Do you normally run off with pictures of strangers?”

“I would’ve sent it to you but…” He bit his lip, smile undiminished while releasing his hands, empty and grasping, alluding to the facts that they knew.

“I don’t give out my number to strangers,” Hux quipped.

He had stopped to take a drink but swallowed quickly. “Ben. Ben Solo.”

“Hux.” Full mouth twisting in confusion Hux sighed, relenting for the time being. “Armitage Hux but no one calls me by my first name except my parents.”

Ben nudged his phone across the table, having slipped it out of his pocket. “It’s been wiped entirely out of my memory.”

“If I could wipe it out of existence that would be for the best.” An empty contact form was already on the screen so it was easy to add his number. 

“My friend’s not going to like me but I’ve heard him play too many times,” Ben commented, bobbing his head to the stage. “You want to get out of here? We can go walking anywhere you want. Oh, and-” Rummaging in his other jacket pocket he pulled out a pale but vivid blue knit hat. “I got you a hat, on the chance we ran into each other again.”

“Thanks.” Standing up slowly, fingers brushing Ben’s when he handed it to him, Hux reeled, from the touch and what he hoped was implication. Had Ben really been looking around for him? He pulled it on, trying to adjust it so his hair wasn’t sticking out around his ears, he nodded to Ben before they made their way to the exit. 

“Alright everyone, count it down with me!” 

He hadn’t noticed that the music had stopped in favour of the singer-guitarist directing the crowd, swinging his arms to the beat of seconds being counted, voices shouting louder yet lower.

Five. Four. Three. Two. 

On one he looked over to Ben when his hand clasped onto his.

The surprise held him from recoiling, a tentative smile making him tighten his fingers back.

Several seconds into the new year they had exited the bar, stepping closer to each other.

He’d apologise to Phasma and Unamo in the morning.


End file.
